wrong number | bsd.

Wrong Number: Episode IX - The Rise of Nakajima (y/n)

a/n; g note warning

You remember being a lonely, edgy 14 year-old with no friends and thinking you were living under a totalitarian dictator, otherwise known as your mother.

You remember that same woman banning you from constructing Minecraft LEGO sets, prohibiting you from buying Shrek 2 DvD's from Blockbuster (R.I.P.), forcing you to venture into the outdoors due to your vitamin D deficiency, burning all your MCR and Metallica cd's, and worst of all—nearly forcing you to join the Mafia, because you, and to quote, "deserve it."

Do you though?

Was it really your fault you were a self-diagnosed crippling depressed child who wanted to emancipate themselves from the cruelty of a dictator?

Maybe you were just overreacting.

Maybe that's it... yeah, probably.

You still reminisce over those days, the days when you would creep into your mother's room, quiet as a mouse, swiping the eyeliner off her dresser, and come back. You'd draw thick, dark lines with it along your eye, coating the area in a waxy smear of glittery-back. You'd even lightly touch it to the undersides of your eyes, to highlight the bags that reside there. Your heavy lids would blink out any excess, leaving you to appear as a glorified marijuana addict. 

Your act was a sordid one, yes, but who were you to care? You even dyed your greasy, choppy hair with vibrant scarlet highlights—temporary, of course—for your tenacity was fervent.

You take another trip down memory lane, remembering when you would ask your parents about this so-called "mafia." Wasn't that a card game or something? Maybe you're just too obsessed with American culture, who knows.

They'd laugh and pat your head. "You sweet, sweet child," they'd coo in English, admiring you fondly.

That isn't a proper response to your inquiry; it's praise, but hey, you'll welcome it gladly.

-

The most important thing that occurs to you, clouding your thoughts, your small brain evidently shrinking, is your mom. Despite the woman obtaining a tyrant status and her unpleasant demeanor, she's still your mother (You wonder if she still has any of your old MCR cd's—though you would rather not be reminded of that phase).

You wonder what she'll think of you right now—her sitting in her favorite lawn chair in the rural countryside of Sicily, overlooking the barren fields of grass and wheat, rolling hills glistening in the sunlight—walking towards a fast food restaurant at 2 am in the dead of the night. Not for food, but rather for your own curiosity and stupidity has blinded you, and daresay may kill you.

Your plan for this situtation was by no means meticulous or thought-out, you are simply going to wait in the parking lot of that Denny's, anticipating the moment a so-called "Akutagawa" shows up. Assuming those detective cretins even mentioned it to him—for God's sake you don't even know if they have contact with the Edgelord—then he may not even show up. This is all a matter of luck, but quid pro quo, you would make sure to pay back the detectives in return for this. Murdering Akutagawa, of course!

You chew the inside of you cheeks, worry cascading in your eyes. In spite of it being quite late at night, the streets are by no means vacant. Perks of living in a city; in any case this will make it worse for you. How are you supposed to fight someone in a Denny's parking lot—what if some of those idiotic tourists are inside? Oh, whatever will you do?